


run

by RosieClark



Series: Rosie's BTHB prompts [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fevers, On the Run, Sick Pidge, bthb prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24345106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieClark/pseuds/RosieClark
Summary: He’s crossed the gap between them in two steps, his brow furrowed as he takes in her appearance. Eyes slightly glazed over, skin paler than usual, a tense expression as if she was in pain. He brushes her hand away, pressing his own against her forehead and immediately retracts it.“Jesus Katie, you’re burning up.”
Relationships: Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Series: Rosie's BTHB prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730326
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DifferentChild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DifferentChild/gifts).



> another bthb prompt fill (fevers) for Katie! i loved working on this one! hope you enjoy! 
> 
> requests are still open on my tumblr (rosieclark) so check it out if you're interested! 
> 
> huge thanks to rue and eden for the beta! y'all made it so much better!

He senses her before he hears her, something in the air changing whenever she’s close. 

“Hey.” Her voice is quiet--timid, almost.

He huffs and keeps his head bent, focusing on logging the few items they’d managed to escape with. 

“Lance.” her voice is strained. “You miscounted the water tablets, got the samples all mixed up, and put three packs of alcohol wipes in with the food packets.” He finally looks at her, and sees the apology written clear as day on her face; the tragic slant of her eyebrows, the slight pout on her lips. “Let me help.”

Lance exhales loudly, running a hand over the stubble growing on his chin. She takes his silence as an invitation to kneel next to him, re-sorting his piles. “You know,” he breaks the silence. “If this is your way of apologizing, it really sucks.” She shoots him a glare, but continues working regardless. He chews on the inside of his cheek. “And I’m still mad at you. Just so you know.”

“I know,” she replies softly, her hands never pausing what they were doing. They sit in silence after that. He allows himself to take her in, the rays of sun making it through the canopy of trees hitting the sparkles of her dress, her hair now in loose waves pulled back messily. Her feet are bare, the heels she wore earlier lost in their hasty escape. He hates that his heart skips a beat. She looks beautiful.

Once she’s finished, the backpack is re-packed and Lance checks the system of alarms Katie’s been leaving behind them. His heart plummets as he sees the latest one--not ten miles from their current position--reads as triggered. He stands up, stretching his legs before offering a hand to her. “Come on, we gotta go.”

She frowns, accepting his hand and he pulls her up. “Why?”

He’s about to answer when she sways on her feet, staggering back. One of her hands comes up to rest on her forehead, the other bracing herself against a tree. He’s crossed the gap between them in two steps, his brow furrowed as he takes in her appearance. Eyes slightly glazed over, skin paler than usual, a tense expression as if she was in pain. He brushes her hand away, pressing his own against her forehead and immediately retracts it.

“Jesus Katie, you’re burning up.”

She shakes her head, pushing away his attempts to check her health. He wants to kick himself, all this time here he was too wrapped up in his own problems that he missed her getting sick right in front of his eyes.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, her eyes glassy. “We should get moving.”

His frown intensifies as he watches her fumble with the clasps of her pack, her hands shaking slightly. He manages to catch her as she collapses, a sheen of sweat over her skin. He scoops her into his arms, ignoring her weak protests and begins to jog, wanting to put as much space between them and whatever was following them as soon as possible. He can feel the heat of her brow through his shirt and it sends a pang of fear down his spine.

He tries his hardest not to jostle her too much, but her comfort came second to her safety. His grip on her tightens and he pushes himself to go faster, further, fueled by the need to protect.

The miles pass by and by the time Lance finally stops, he near out collapses from exhaustion. His eyes rove around their surroundings. The forest is not as thick as it was before, and to the right he hears the sound of rushing water. All around them, purple leaves rustle in the trees, some cascading to the ground. Had this been a different time or place, the location would have been a prime spot for his romantic endeavors. Lance allows himself one more moment to take in the beauty of the forest before he gently lays Katie down on the ground, using his pack as a pillow for her head.

He moves to go find some leaves for his own pillow, but stops when he feels a tug on his shirt. He looks down at Katie, who’s looking back at him with big eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

He wonders briefly what she’s talking about before he remembers. Oh yeah. It feels like a lifetime ago. “Don’t worry about it beautiful,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to her scorching forehead. “It’s all forgiven.”

Even in her delirious state she gives him a skeptical glance. “Don’t forgive me just because I’m sick.”

This earns a laugh out of him and he stretches out next to her. Frail has never been a word Lance would use to describe Katie, but seeing her like this- well, it was the only word he could think of. Her body looks so small, curled up and shivering slightly and he wishes he had a blanket or something to wrap her in. She’s looking back at him expectantly as if waiting for an answer.

He sighs. “No Katie, I’m not forgiving you just because you’re sick. I’m forgiving you because I care about you and I don’t want to spend time being mad at you when we could be having fun instead. I’m forgiving you because there was nothing to be mad about in the first place and I was being petty. Because that’s what you do to the people you love, you forgive them.”

He realizes his words the moment he says them and flushes red in the dark. His gaze slides to Katie to see if she picked up on his confession, but her eyelids are already closed. He smiles to himself, using one of his arms as a pillow, gazing up at the stars. They looked so beautiful tonight.

*

“Tell me something,” Katie moans. “As a distraction.”

He keeps his eyes ahead, careful not to trip over any roots. “Anything?” He feels her nod in confirmation. “Okay, well how about this? I had my first kiss when I was fifteen.” He says it rather proudly. That moment had been one of the defining moments in his Loverboy Lance times.

Katie coughs, turning her head away and he could have sworn he feels her tense up slightly.

“She was three years older than me and I was delivering some tomatoes from the farm. One thing led to another and before I knew it, we were smooching.”

“Okay, tell me anything but that,” Katie mumbles, her brows furrowed.

She’s jealous, Lance realizes and if the situation was different, he would have done a victory dance. Instead he just shrugs.

“What? She was my first kiss.” He stops running, just long enough to use one of his hands to tilt her chin up so she’s looking at him. “But when we get out of here, and you’re all better, I’m going to sweep you off your feet and kiss you.”

Katie lets out a squeak, and he’s pleased when she flushes, although it might just be the fever.

“And that kiss? It’ll feel like my first kiss all over again.” He winks at her

“Wow, you really are a smooth talker,” she finally replies, the fragments of an amused smile on her face.

He laughs. “Was there any doubt?”

“Maybe some.”

He’s about to respond when his leg cramps up, causing him to grunt out in pain.

“Lance?”

He grits his teeth, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck. “Uh,” he pants, trying to keep pace. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

When he looks down at her, her concern is clear. He plasters a smile on his face, but she isn’t having any of it. “Lance. You gotta stop.”

He shakes his head, grunting out a response. They couldn’t stop. Not if they were going to get off this planet. There's a sharp pain on his arm and he realizes that Katie is pinching him, her tiny fingers unrelenting.

“Stop. Now.” Her eyes tell him she’s not going to take no for an answer. Sighing loudly to clearly express his disagreement with her decision, he plops down, propping Katie up on his shoulder. She leans against him heavily, unable to support her own weight and it sends a pang of fear down his spine.

*

A rustling noise awakens Lance from his light sleep, and he turns to see Katie tossing and turning beside him, her brow furrowed in dream. Gently, he brushes the damp pieces of hair from her forehead and rubs his thumb along her brow, smoothing out the crease.

“Shh Katie,” he whispers. “It’s alright. It’s just a dream.”

Her eyes dart from side to side under her closed eyelids, sweat beading at her temples. Lance wishes for not the first time that there was something else he could do.

“Matt?” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper. She whimpers, her head turning to one side before she cries again, louder this time. “Matt?”

Lance wants to cry. He just wants to sit down and give up and cry. Getting stranded on a hostile alien planet alone he could handle. Being on the run from an unknown enemy? Piece of cake. But something about seeing Katie lying here, her eyes glazed over and confused, calling out for her lost brother… that was too much for him.

“It’s Lance,” he tries, pressing his lips to her burning cheek. “Matt is safe, but he’s not here now.”

These words, Lance soon realizes, were the wrong thing to say because Katie's arms flail around, her head thrashing from side to side. “No! Matt!”

Lance panics. At this rate, she’ll alert whoever's following them to their location, and Lance couldn’t let that happen. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he grabs her arms, pinning them to her side for both of their safeties. “Shh, Katie, it’s me. It’s Matt.”

The effect is immediate. Her body relaxes and her breathing evens out slightly. Lance pushes down the immense guilt that threatens to bubble up. Who is he to pretend to be her brother?

“Matt?”

“Yes, Pidgeon,” he tries to make his voice sound more like her brothers. “I’m here.”

Katie turns towards him, her head on his lap, her face buried in his shirt and starts to cry. Lance brings his hand up to run through her hair, feeling his own tears beginning to bubble over. Soon he was no better off than her, hunched over and sobbing. His body feels so weary, and he soon lets sleep take over.

*

Lance doesn’t know how long they’ve been stranded. What he does know is Katie is getting worse by the hour and he will not be able to run any more.

His feet are a mess of blisters and bruises, his legs feeling like jelly whenever he tries to walk. Beside him, Katie lies deathly still, her skin pale, her breathing shallow. She’s been like that for a few hours, all his attempts to wake her proving futile. 

He reaches for a water tablet, only to remember it would be with their packs, abandoned two days ago. It had come down to the packs or Katie; the decision was an easy one.

There is a rustling noise, too close for comfort, and Lance knows they’re out of time. His legs won’t carry them any further, so running is out of the question. Running a hand over his grimy face, he staggers to his feet, hoisting Katie up to move her somewhere out of the open. Katie lets out a pained moan, and Lance mutters an apology, too winded to say it any louder. His breaths feel like they’re getting squeezed out of his chest. Carefully, he sets her down, prying her fingers from his shirt. Then he grabs handfuls of fallen leaves and sticks--anything he could get his hands on--and throws them on top of her, gently, of course.

Once he’s happy she’s disguised as a pile of earth, he limps back to the clearing, sitting against a fallen log. He grabs a stick from beside him, longing for the familiar grip of his bayard.

Pushing his hair up and out of his eyes, he takes a few calming breaths, letting his muscles relax, running though the basic training movements Shiro taught them.  _ You can do this _ , he tells himself.  _ You’ve run too far to die now _ . 

His intent is to keep his focus on the on coming fight, but his resolve is weak and he finds his gaze sliding to where Katie lies. 

From here, he can just see a tuft of her brown hair, a glimpse of the sparkling navy that was once her dress.

_ I’m sorry, _ he thinks, wishing she could hear him.  _ I’m so sorry. _

Then he tears his eyes away, forcing himself to look forward, grip tightening on the stick and counting down the seconds until show time - taking a deep breath and steadying himself for what could quite possibly be the last fight of his life.

A snap. Then a rustle, and Lance raises his stick as a jumble of red and white and mullet tumbles from the bushes.

Something about seeing his teammate, his  _ friend _ , stumble out of a bush, covered in leaves and dirt and looking like a lost lamb makes the tension drain out of him. And for the first time in what seems like ages, Lance Mcclain laughs out loud. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated!


End file.
